My grandmother had a (empty) ostrich egg that her sister had brought her from Africa in the 20s. We were not allowed to touch it - but it became a good memory. Hope you too have a good memory of that egg, and the person who gave it to you!

My grandmother used to make delightful ornaments out of blown eggs. She emptied them, dried them out, cut out an oval "window," painted them, and then created a scene inside, with miniature figurines and bits of cloth. They were quite lovely as Christmas tree ornaments. I tried to follow in her footsteps, but was never patient enough, and somehow my eggs always cracked when I was trying to blow the thick yoke through that tiny needle-hole.

On another, similar note - I broke my favorite tea mug this morning. Knocked it off the side-table accidentally with my arm, and it shattered, egg-like, on the tile floor :(

in some old churches they have the habit to have the egg of an ostrich!it's there for new live!your egg reminds me of that.i had a koptisch Orthodox Egypt friend [ i hope you write it like that...the koptisch part..!] and he explained me why the egg was in his church!

I like your egg. The egg I have been carrying around, I am ready to let crack. I wasn't ready until last night. Even found myself crying over wanting to carry it forever and never let it go. I like that I was ready last night to let mine fall and read today the post of yours. Kismet :)